Best of Me
by ohsocreative
Summary: Amy's 18 and returning to VA from her boarding school in England to run Heartland after her mom dies.She left 7 years ago due to painful memories of her dad,and is now returning with newer,more painful ones.Can she survive, or will it break her down?TyAmy
1. Tell me what you thought about

**Here is a new story. I know, I should go to writers hell. Seriously. See, I said I was going to focus on 'Love Comes Softly' but who, besides me, thinks that it moved way too fast? I mean, the plot wasn't horrible, but I moved it at a fast pace and the compromise scene was absolutely horrible. I cringed when I read it again. So, I plan on either deleting the story, or saving it but changing it later.**

**Note: Marion died the same way as in the books, but Amy was not there. **

**Note #2- Ty Baldwin- Was hired to work at Heartland three years previous. He was then a Junior so now he is 20 and graduated. He did not quit school to work, but he _is_ fully devoted, has been for over a year. Amy and Ty _have _met, the last summer that Amy decided to spend in Virginia.**

* * *

**Best of Me**

**Chapter One-**

**"Tell me what you thought about when you were gone"**

"Hello!" A chipper voice squeaked through my headphones, and I turned my head. An older lady, around 50 or so, was standing in the walkway, smiling down at me. I glanced down at my iPod, pressing the pause button, before looking up at her as I slipped my earphones out.

"Hello," her eyes brightened, as though my response had been just as exuberant as hers.

"I'm your seat mate!" Obviously this appealed to her greatly, so I smiled as though I actually understood her enthusiasm.

"Oh, really? That's great." I knew my voice was betraying my words. There was no fervor what so ever in my voice, but the woman apparently did not notice.

"Are you going to New York also?" I watched her struggling to push a large bag into the overhead compartment. I wondered, as she did so, why she didn't have an English accent. She must have been a tourist. Although, I suppose that I wasn't a tourist, and yet I myself had an American accent, with the occasional twinge now and again.

"Um, no. I'm actually going to Virginia. I'm boarding another plane in New York, though." She finally managed to push the bag into the limited space, and plopped her large girth into the seat next to mine. She was breathing hard, and she placed a hand over her heart as though suffering a great sin. Oh, the Dimmesdales of the world.

"Well then, I'm afraid to say you'll only see me until New York. My son lives there, you know? I'm going to visit him." I smiled politely at this woman. Apparently she assumed that I wanted to talk. I wasn't rude, so of course I was going to answer her, but really, not everyone enjoys conversation.

"Really? That's nice." She smiled at me, letting her hand drop from her chest. She then began to struggle with her seatbelt as she rambled on.

"Yes, he's recently gotten engaged to a charming young woman. I'm actually going to meet her, I've only spoken to her over the phone." I sighed, looking out the window at the airport. The runways were full with plans either coming in, or getting ready to depart.

"Really? Well, that's great. I hope they have a great life." Ugh, what a freaking cliche. A great life? Was there such a thing nowadays? People fell in love, people fell out of love. People cheated, people committed murder. People died.

Pain was a very adamant emotion. It haunted each and every person on the planet until their dying day, which only brought pain unto others.

It was a nasty chain of recycled_ freaking_ pain. And I was sick of it.

"Yes, well, enough about me. Why are you going to Virginia, sweetie?" I lifted my eyes from the runway and let them fall to my lap. My hands were intertwined, squeezing the color out of each other.

"My mom died." She gasped, I cringed.

See? Recycled pain.

"Oh, poor child! Are you alright?" I felt her feather of a hand fall across my leg and I stared at it. Funny how this touch was meant to portray sympathy towards my woe, but really, I just felt uncomfortable. I wasn't a touchy feely person, and a random hand on my thigh tended to weird me out.

"Yeah, I am. Really, it's fine." She continued to fret over me, her eyes uncomfortably sad.

"Why are you flying to Virginia?" Would the questions never end?

"My mom lived there, on a farm. I attend boarding school here, in England." Her eyes widened. No doubt the idea of mother and child living so far away from each other made her feeble old body shake with disagreement.

"Oh. Well, dear child, I'm so sorry. This must be a hard time for you." Her hand fell away from my leg, but her voice was low, soothing.

"Yeah. I guess." I knew I sounded as though my mothers death meant nothing to me, but truly, it did. I only saw my mother during the holidays and sometimes during the summer. But, recently, I'd taken to spending my summers with friends in England. Well, for the past two summers, that is. There were reasons for this, my mother just didn't know. What harm was there in lying about why I didn't want to visit? Anyway, we hadn't seen much of each other. I guess I was hiding from her, there was no denying that. I resented my mother for giving up on my father long ago, but there was nothing I could do about it. I'd actually come to realize that she had been right to leave, right to want to start over.

But me? I'd been to blind to notice this and flew across an ocean to escape her. I wanted nothing to do with her or the horses that I could link to my father. I was a naive ten year old, and I couldn't change that.

But now, now was the hard part. The last time I had spoken to my mother we were sending harsh words through the telephone. I had been pleading to spend this summer in England too. I was supposed to fly down the next week since summer had begun, but I had wanted to stay, for reasons, once again, that she just didn't know. She had argued that my last two summers had been spent in England, and that she wanted to see me.

I'd hung up on her in the heat of the moment, fury burning through my body like wildfire.

She died five hours later.

How fucked up was that?

* * *

"Flight 110 to Virginia, now boarding." I lifted my eyes to the loud speaker situated in the corner of the room before standing up, lifting my carry on onto my back. I walked towards the gate that led to my plane, placing myself in the long line that had begun to form. I was dying to dig my iPod out of my pocket to drown out the voices of those around me, but I was getting closer and closer to the desk, so I resisted. 

Finally, I made it.

"Ticket, please." The twenty-something woman said to me, and I handed her my ticket. She smiled, handed it back to me, and the man behind her gestured towards the long hallway behind him.

"Have a nice flight, Miss." I grinned at him, walking into the hallway. I instantly slipped my hand into my jean shorts pocket, pulling out my iPod. I placed the earphones in my ears, letting music drift into my senses. I smiled at the flight attendants that flocked around the door to the plane before stepping past them, ignoring their moving mouths. I already knew what they were saying, and I damn well knew how to read a ticket.

I looked down at said ticket. My seat number was E27. I filed past the many men, women, and children standing in the walkway towards the doorway at the end. I passed through and began looking for my seat. Finally, I found it. Unfortunately, I didn't have the window seat this time. I opened the compartment above my head and shoved my book bag into it. I quickly snatched the water sitting in the side pouch before shutting the door. I let myself fall into the seat, crossing my legs comfortably, and closing my eyes.

"Hey," I sighed, slowly lifting my eyelids. Sitting across the aisle, but close enough to touch, was a guy about my age. He had dark blonde hair that was placed in a faux hawk. His face was smooth and angelic in a way that just screamed 'jock'. He was dressed in, no doubt, label jeans that had a well placed rip along them, and a light blue polo.

"Hi," I answered, turning my eyes away and listening to my music again.

"My names Miles, what's yours?" I rolled my eyes before pressing pause and pulling one earphone out.

"Is there a reason you're talking to me?" His icy blue eyes flashed surprise at my blunt question. Then he smiled.

"Just making conversation." I narrowed my eyes.

"Does it look like I want to talk?" He chuckled sardonically.

"Wow, you're a real charmer, huh?" I licked my lips, turning towards him slightly.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I didn't get on this plane to make idle chit chat with an overly confident guy like you."

Oh, he wasn't expecting that, but he was ready.

"Yeah, well I didn't get on this plane expecting a depressed bitch to be sitting next to me." I'm not going to lie, my eyes widened slightly in surprise. I thought I knew what type he was, but obviously I was wrong. He had a backbone. He had guts. Too bad he chose to talk to me.

"Oh, wow. What a nice guy you are. Do you get girls to sleep with you by talking like that?" He smiled in amusement.

"Only ones like you." Okay, so I laughed. Seriously, the guy was funny. Normally I probably would have slapped him or ignored him, but with my troubles in the past few years came a sense of confidence. And with that confidence, came an odd sense of humor. The guy was funny, you have to admit.

"Oh, well you have me pegged. I want you so bad right now, I can barely contain it." He smiled and laughed at this, leaning back in his seat.

"So?" It took me a second to understand.

"Amy. It's nice to meet you." He licked his lips and smiled.

"Feisty, aren't you Amy?"

"Only with guys like you." I winked, laughing silently as I saw his surprise. I was flirting with the asshole who'd just called me a bitch. God, I was messed up. And flirting, in general, was not on my 'to do' list. Just thinking about a guy and me doing anything of the sort made my heart stop. No, I couldn't think about that. Couldn't think about every giving a guy another chance. It wasn't worth it.

"Good thing, too. I like feisty." His smile became so flirtatious that my heart began to beat like crazy. Why? I didn't know. But I didn't like it. My heart hadn't beat like that in ages.

"Well, sorry to crush your dreams, Miles. But we'll probably never see each other again." He burst out laughing at this.

"You do know that we're on a plane to the same place, right?" His eyes twinkled in amusement. Damn, I'd forgotten about that detail.

"Virginia is kind of big. How do you know we're going to the same place?" He shrugged, smiling a dazzling smile.

"I have a feeling." I frowned at him, confused.

"What feeling?" He turned his head away from me, slipping his own earphones in, closing his eyes.

"That we're going to see each other again."

And that was the end of Miles for the next few hours.

* * *

"Ow." I held my back as I stood up to stretch. A person can only stand so much time in one place before bodily pains start to arise. 

"You okay?" I turned to look at Miles who was standing up. Since we were both in the same row, and the aisle was small, we were pressed tightly against each other. I stared at him for a second, felling guilty when I didn't want to break eye contact. Finally I moved myself back into my seat and let him move forward a bit before I stepped back into the aisle.

"Fine, my back just hurts a little." He nodded, smiling at me. I turned away, opening the compartment above my head and slipping my backpack out. I opened the front pocket and threw my iPod in, zippering it back up.

"So, do you live far from here?"

The next thing I said was by instinct, I swear. A reflex of sorts.

"I don't live here."

One blink. Two blink. Three blink. Four.

"Oh. Just visiting?" Miles seemed confused.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean that. I live here, but I went to boarding school in England. But, I'm moving back and going to school here."

"Why?"

Ugh, that damn question. Why did everyone ask it?

"My mom died."

Five blink. Six blink. Seven blink. Eight.

"Oh." That was all he said. I waited for more. "I'm sorry."

Ah, I knew it. He had to say it. Otherwise, it would be rude right? Funny thing about rude, I prefer it sometimes.

"Don't be. It isn't your fault."

Miles studied my face for a moment. I knew he was going to say something. Going to try and play shrink, hoping I'd spill my guts to him.

Surprisingly, he didn't. He only gestured with his hand that I walk in front of him. I blinked at him, truly bewildered, before stepping in front of him.

As we came out into the airport, Miles grasped my arm lightly.

"I already see my ride, so I have to go." I looked at him. "But remember, I have a feeling." He winked, squeezed my arm, and walked off.

Huh.

* * *

"Amy!" God damn that old man. God damn him. He was the only thing that had brought any sort of raw emotion to the surface in the past week. He held out his arms, his eyes bright and glistening in their beauty. 

I have no excuse for my reaction towards him. Just the sight of him brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked them back and stared at him with numb eyes.

"Hey, Grandpa." His eyes became overwhelmingly sad and I had to turn my gaze from his face.

Jack Bartlett was a handsome old man. His eyes were a deep shade of brown that reminded me of root beer, transparent in their darkness. His thinning hair was the color of salt and pepper, and his face was riddled with folds and wrinkles from so many years of deeply felt emotions. Usually a very well built man, Jack had gained a few pounds over the years. He was by no means fat, but he wasn't as thin as he was a few years previous.

"Amy, honey, how are you?" His arms that had been held out openly had dropped to his sides in rejection.

"Fine." What was wrong with me? Why was I acting as though nothing meant a damn thing? I was in Virginia. I was going to _live _in Virginia. Go to_ school _in Virginia. Work on _my farm _in Virginia. See_ him_ in Virginia.

Mourn my mothers death in Virginia.

I couldn't deny the fact that it was all overpowering me. I felt like I was drowning in everything, and yet I wouldn't let my own Grandfather show me affection. What sort of person was I?

We stood in silence as I fought my emotions into a secluded corner of my mind. Finally Grandpa cleared his throat and placed a light hand on my lower back, guiding me.

"We have to get your bags, sweetie. I'm assuming you don't have much?" I shook my head.

"No, I sent most of it." He nodded and let his hand fall from my back. I took a deep breath, letting my chest be relieved. I felt as though I was in a corset, not able to breath, but not able to be let out.

"How was your flight?" I bit my lip, dreading talking to him. I knew it wasn't long before she came into the conversation.

"Fine." I felt his eyes lingering on my face. I did not turn to meet his gaze.

"Are you hungry?" We had arrived at baggage claim and I watched as bags slowly passed below me on the conveyor belt.

"A little." I saw my bag and held my hand at the ready for when it came into reaching distance.

"Lou's at the house, she's cooking dinner. She made your favorite." My stomach growled at the thought of Chicken Dijon, my preferred dish.

"That's great, thanks." I reached forward and grabbed my large suitcase from off the conveyor belt. I set it on the ground and pulled the handle up so it would roll.

We were silent as we walked towards the car. The tension between us was great, and I couldn't stop licking my lips nervously. When we got to the pickup I hefted my bag into the truck bed and climbed into the old vehicle.

As we drove there was no music and no speaking. The house was at least 45 minutes away, and I settled into the door to wait.

"Are you sure you're okay?" My sigh left a large patch of fog on the window.

"I'm fine." I needed to change the subject. "How's the baby?"

Grandpa seemed reluctant to change the subject, but he answered none the less. "Doing great. Lou has a doctors appointment next week. She finds out what it is then." I smiled despite myself. I hadn't seen Lou since spring break and she hadn't known she was pregnant yet. She was now nearly four months along, and if the pictures were to be believed, she was getting large and radiant in her pregnancy.

We were quiet once again for about ten minutes.

"Amy, we need to talk. You haven't said anything about your mo..." I cut him off sharply.

"Stop." He looked over at my quickly in surprise. "Grandpa, I'm fine. I have my own way of dealing with things, and I'm _fine_."

"But honey, you can't be fine. Your mother just passed away, there's pain in that."

I swallowed a large lump in my throat and blinked back tears in my eyes.

"Well, I _am_ fine." I heard him sigh a large sigh.

"Amy, please, don't do this." He was pleading with me. Pleading hard.

"I'm not doing anything."

"That's the problem."

Oh, could there be so much truth in only three words? Could there?

* * *

Heartland was beautiful. Simply beautiful. Even though I had willingly left it, I had never said that it didn't absolutely take my breath away every time I saw it. 

It was set far back on a large patch of land in Jefferson, Virginia. The entrance was simple, just long wooden logs flanking the beginning of the driveway and one atop those that had a sign that read 'Heartland' in script. As we drove beneath it dust billowed up from the dirt driveway. At first there was nothing but large fields and trees but then we turned to the left and Heartland came into view. There were two large white barns to the right with two large paddocks and a working ring behind that. To the left was the large worn down, yet beautiful, farmhouse.

I rolled my window down as we neared the house and breathed in the scent of it all. There were horses roaming around the property and I smiled at the sight of them. Painful memories or not, horses were not subject to anything but adoration on my part.

"Happy to be home?" I turned towards Jack, my eyes that had been gleeful fell in guilt.

"I suppose." I was, in a way, happy to be back. I loved Heartland, that's why I always tried to stay away from it. I didn't want to love it. I wanted to hate it.

The truck came to a halt to the right of the house. I slowly opened my door, squinting through the blaring sun to look at my surroundings. My eyes instantly flew towards the paddocks, scanning along them. Searching.

"Honey, Lou is inside. I'm sure she'd love to see you." I turned towards my Grandpa and smiled slightly.

"Yeah, right." I hoisted my bag from the truck and walked towards the house. When I stepped through the door and into the kitchen I was instantly engulfed.

"Amy! Oh my God, I've been so worried! Are you okay? How are you? Are you hungry? Do you have to pee? Ugh,** I **have to pee and I haven't been on a _plane _all day. Go pee, now." I laughed at Lou as she pulled away from me.

"I don't have to pee Lou, I'm fine." She smiled down at me as tears welled in her eyes.

"Sorry, I was rambling. It's just...I'm so happy to see you." I smiled at her, patting her arm.

"I know, Lou. I'm happy to see you too." Lou's eyes were then filled with worry and as she opened her mouth to speak I shook my head slightly. She saw and bit her lip.

"Not now." She nodded before clearing her throat and waddling over to the stove.

"Well, I got a late start on dinner because I had to go to the store for a few things. So it should be done in about half an hour."

"That's okay. Where's Scott?" Lou's eyes brightened just at the mention of her husband of the past eight months.

"He got called in to a birthing, but he should be back in a little while. An hour, tops." I smiled at her before looking down at her stomach.

"And how is my niece or nephew?" Lou bit her lip in ecstasy as she placed a hand on her stomach.

"Amazing." I laughed and placed my own hand on her stomach as Grandpa came into the room. He smiled sadly at the sight of us before taking off his boots.

"When's dinner, Lou?" Lou lowered herself into a chair at the table.

"About thirty minutes." Grandpa nodded before looking at me.

"Why don't you go get settled, honey. Your stuff is all in your room." I looked upwards at the ceiling before looking back at him.

"I was actually thinking I might go say hi to the horses. Look around the barns, maybe." Grandpa frowned.

"Okay, sweetie." I made my way towards the door.

"Dinner in thirty, I'll call for you." I nodded at Lou before leaving the house.

The warm summer air blew across me lightly. My long, straight, light brown hair was in a ponytail and the wind blew it around my face. I was dressed in jean shorts, a plain grey t-shirt, and a black zip-up hoodie over that and black sandals. The light wind made it necessary for the hoodie, and I was glad for it, but I zipped it down lower on my body until it was only half-way zipped, so the air ventilated through it.

I decided to go say hello to the horses in the paddocks first. I slowly walked over towards them, my hands pushed into the pockets of my hoodie.

"Hi, sweetie." I lifted one hand from within my sweater and lay it across the long face of a beautiful chestnut. "How are you?" I crooned to her a few moments longer before lifting my other hand from my sweater and climbing over the wooden fence. I dropped myself into the paddock and one by one slowly approached each horse. I knew that they were all here for rehabilitation, so I was careful to let them chose to come to me. Finally I climbed back over the fence and headed towards the back barn.

The doors were open and I slowly walked down the aisle. There were about 18 stalls and about 10 horses in the barn. At the end was a beautiful mare that shied away at my touch.

"Come here, baby. What's wrong?" I murmured, holding my hand out. "You've been hurt, huh? What's your name, beautiful? What do I call you?" I unlatched the door and slowly began to open it, but just as I was about to slip through, a gentle hand grabbed my wrist, pulling it back.

"Don't, she's scared of human contact." the large figure said softly.

"Ty!" I gasped, my heart beating like crazy at the sight of him. He'd scared me.

"Amy," his voice was low, and he lowered his eyes beneath his old black baseball cap to meet mine.

"Uh, hey. How are you?" He smiled at me, pushing his hat up slightly.

"I'm okay. You?" I smiled back at him, my lips wavering as I did so.

"Fine." His eyes searched my face, knowing that I wasn't fine. He knew I had to be hurting from my mothers death. But he also knew I didn't want to talk about it.

"So, you're home. For good." I found myself not able to meet his gaze. Every time I did there was a pang in my chest.

"Yeah, I'm home. For good." Finally I looked up and met his eyes, and regretted it. For good meant to much. For good was _not_ for good. It was for bad.

At that moment I heard Lou calling my name. I turned towards the house, then back to him.

"It was nice seeing you Ty." He smiled casually, leaning against the stall door.

"Yeah." That was all he said.

* * *

Ahhh, new story. I love new stories, really, I do. I just don't update as often as I should. But I should have some time coming up in a week or two. So expect chapters :

Oh, and about the title. This story's title is, in fact, a song. 'Best of Me' by The Starting Line. I happen to love that song, but that's not why I chose it. If you read the lyrics, then you can tell it sort of goes with the story, or it will. Actually, each chapter title is a lyric to the song. I'm not saying that the story will end when the lyrics do, I'll just have to figure that out if it happens. But, if you DO read the lyrics, know that this story is not exactly following that. Just a few parts stood out for me and kind of gave me this..._idea_ smirk

Review please, or this story won't keep going. It all depends on you guys :


	2. And so alone

_**I'm not going to go into detail about why I haven't updated in a while, I'll just say I'm sorry.**_

_**Now I realized I left some things unexplained in the last chapter, but please believe me when I say every question you have will eventually be answered. There is a twist, of sorts, to this story. I hope you notice it when it happens, because its going to come slowly and in pieces.**_

_**But first, if only to keep me in line, I want to post some facts on the previous years that will not give anything away. I hope it will clear a few things up.**_

**3 years before**** (2004)**

-Ty came to Heartland during the year (actually, he came in the year 2003 around November..but its close to 2004 :D)

-Ty is a Junior (17 years of age)

-Amy is a Freshman at her boarding school in England (15 years of age)

-The summer of 2004 was Amy's last summer spent in Virginia

**2 years before (2005)**

-Ty is a Senior (18 years of age)

-Amy is a Sophomore (16 years of age)

-Amy's first summer spent in England

-Amy came home for Holidays, but rarely spent the whole holiday there (if she had two weeks off, she'd go back to England early, pleading that it was her only off time with her friends)

**1 year before (2006)**

-Ty's first year out of school (19 years of age). Therefore he is full time at Heartland and making great strides in following in Marions footsteps. He practically lives on the farm.

-Amy is a Junior (17 years of age)

-Amy's second summer spent in England

-Amy came home for Holidays, but once again, left early for most of them.

**Now (2007–1st week of July)**

-Ty's second year our of school (20 years of age–recently. His birthday is in January). Still as dedicated as ever.

-Amy is going to be a Senior after this summer (still 17 until her birthday in August)

-Marion died on June 31th

-Amy boarded her flight on July 2nd

_**I hope that helped clear some background information up. I was starting to confuse myself with it all, to be honest. I've had it written down, but its on a piece of paper that has not a blank spot on it. So...I'm trying to straighten this story out, and posting this will help me.**_

_**Oh, and also, Lou has been back in Virginia for about two years now. She came back when life in NYC just wasn't cutting it. Then it's the same story for her, just with Marion alive and Amy not there. She's married to Scott and does NOT live with Jack and Amy anymore, but she is going to be there for a few days as Amy settles in. That's why she spent the night in this chapter. Just to get that straight :**_

**Best of Me**

**Chapter Two-**

"**and so alone"**

_July 3, 2007_

In a matter of three days I had come to realize what true exhaustion meant. I could barely remember if I had slept even a matter of minutes since my mother had died, and it was finally taking a toll on my body. I could barely move without feeling the energy it took being drained from my body like it was nothing. Just reaching for the clock made me breathless and want to lay back down upon my feather pillow and drift off...but I knew I would not sleep. I would only lay there until I was convinced that this was not just a mental problem, it was physical. I could not sleep. I could not close my eyes without picturing my mother in various scenarios over the past 17 years of my life. I just couldn't. Even counting sheep, the way my mother used to tell me to do when I was restless at night, did not work. It wasn't normal for me to not sleep for three nights straight, recent trauma or not. I felt like I was losing myself just from lack of rest.

I needed some major REM cycles, and it wasn't happening. So, as I read the large red digits sprawled across my ancient clock, I was not surprised. It was only four in the morning. I mean, sure, I got up at five thirty anyway to work the farm when I was home, but that meant nothing. It was only my first night home, and after no sleep for the past two nights, I didn't think anyone would really care if I skipped the morning chores for once in my life. But, seeing as though I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, for the third night in a row, I decided to get some things done early. Maybe an afternoon nap might work out. Or, then again, maybe not.

I slowly lifted myself into a seated position on my old worn out bed that I'd had since before I left for England. It was comfy in the fact that it was still molded to my body seven years, several inches, and many pounds after I'd last slept in it faithfully. Though, it was uncomfortable because of the little spring that jutted out near the edge, where I always tended to roll. When I was little my body had become accustomed to it and learned never to turn that way, but now that little survival instinct no longer resided in my mind, and I had a little irritated cut along my side from where I'd run into it several times during the night, trying to get to sleep.

I played with the spring for a moment, remembering all the nights, as a child, I would jump around on the bed, pretending like I was cantering through the fields beyond Heartland. When the spring had finally popped my mother had smiled and shook her head in amusement. She had warned me several times that I was going to break my bed, but had I ever listened? Of course not.

Shaking myself back into the present time I swung my legs tiredly across the edge of the bed. I stood up, stretching slightly, before walking quietly into the hallway. I tiptoed past Grandpa and Lou's bedrooms and slowly closed the creaking door of the bathroom.

When the light flickered on I groggily glanced into the mirror and was slightly shocked at what I saw. My hair was straggly from tossing and turning all night, and apparently it had fallen out of the ponytail is had been in several hours before. Underneath my eyes were light gray circles that drew my eyes inward until they looked almost sunken into my face. I tried to widen my eyes, to see if it helped at all, but it just made it look as though a corpse were staring hypnotically back at me.

"You've become pathetic, Amy Fleming." I whispered softly, slowly caressing the underneath of my eyes. When had my face become so tired? When had my eyes become so sad? When had my heart slowed its rhythm? It had to have happened some time over the past few days, but how hadn't I noticed? Had I avoided mirrors and pretended as though everything were the same with my physical body, even though my mentality was slowly withering? How could that have happened?

I let my shoulders sag, realizing that I'd changed so much in the new air of my mothers death. I didn't want to think about it, but her death stirred more emotions in me then I was able to express. I didn't want anyone to see me suffer. I didn't want anyone to see me fold. And this, this slowly deteriorating outside, was not helping to keep it all within me.

That had to change.

I quickly searched within all the drawers around the sink and finally found a brush. I swiped it through my hair until is was free of knots. I then let my clothes fall from off my body and I kicked them into the corner.

The shower felt nice against my skin, and I was extra careful to cleanse my face more than usual in hopes that it would make me look fresher. More awake and alive.

When I was done I stepped out of the tub and dried my body off, swinging my long hair into a towel and examining my body in the mirror once again. My face looked slightly better. There were still circles under my eyes, but that could easily be covered with makeup. I was just worried about the rest of my face. I made myself smile and was satisfied that I could make it look half-way decent.

I looked around the bathroom and noticed my mothers bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. I touched it lightly and ran the cotton through my fingers, feeling tears well up within my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was useless. As tears overcame me, my body convulsed until I could no longer stand alone. I fell against the door and slid down it until I was laying along the cold linoleum.

How had this happened?

* * *

After about fifteen minutes of trying to control my breathing I was able to stand up and drape myself in the reason for my tears. The robe fit me perfectly and I knew it was because I was blessed with the body of my mother. All the slow curves and smooth skin. She'd given me everything, physically and materialistically. Yet, I don't think I'd ever thanked her.

I let my feet slide across the floor until my abdomen hit the sinks rim. I then pulled the towel from my hair and watched as it fell down farther than half my back. I had always loved my hair because it was so long and never frizzed. I had once been asked, while at the mall in England, to model for a shampoo company. My friends and I had laughed hysterically after I had politely turned the woman down, thinking it was a joke. Although, I did get compliment quite a lot on my hair.

The hair of my mother. Not only had she given my curves, but also my hair. I looked at it, turning my head to and fro, looking at it from every angle. I bit my lip, contemplating. After a moment I started ruffling through the drawers around the sink again before finding what I'd been looking for. I lifted the small scissors from the drawer and looked at myself again. Did I have the guts?

Before I could think I let the scissors scrape across my hair and inches fell straight off. The front piece of hair I had cut was now only about three inches below my shoulder. I'd cut off about eight inches. I swallowed, took a deep breath, and continued around my head until there was a pile of my hair along the floor. I looked at myself again, but I wasn't satisfied with the haircut. I took a ponytail from off the sink and took the underneath of my hair and tied it together. I then cut the rest slightly shorter. I did this two more times until I had a few layers within my hair. I then cut from my chin down at an angle, giving definition to the front of my hair.

After cleaning up my hair from the floor I once again tiptoed back towards my room, the doors I passed quiet as ever. I rummaged through my unpacked suitcase and stepped into a pair of jeans, slipped on a t-shirt with the name of my boarding school scripted across it, and I let my arms fall into the work coat that I always left draped across my desk chair, even when I went back to England.

I then looked at my hair again in the mirror that hung from my door. It was nearly dry now and there was bounce to it. I hadn't had my hair shorter than about halfway down my back in many, many years. Even though my hair couldn't be defined as short, even now, it definitely wasn't long to me.

I drew my gaze away from my hair and settled them on the skin beneath my eyes. Grabbing my traveling case from my desk I rummaged around until I found the coverup that I rarely used. I took a small portion onto my index finger and spread it beneath both of my eyes, rubbing it in. When I was satisfied that I no long looked sleep deprived or depressed I straightened my back, took a deep breath, and walked back down the hall and down the stairs and into the kitchen. By now it was around 5:30, the time that I usually woke up, and as I tied my shoes I heard someone stirring above me, and, not wanting to be caught into conversation at that moment, I hurriedly threw myself out the door, barely remembering to quietly close it behind me.

I breathed in the fresh summer air and smiled as I heard hooves scraping lightly against the floor of the barn. The horses were going to be hungry soon, I realized, already back in the groove of things. I picked up my pace slightly and jogged lightly towards the feed room. As I opened the door I had to hold in a scream at the sight of someone hunched over the feed buckets.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, my hand flying to my chest. I took a deep breath to steady myself as Ty straightened himself and smiled crookedly at me from under that old baseball cap he obviously was never without.

"Amy," he chuckled slightly. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

I let out my breath in a sarcastic laugh and looked at him. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Oh," his gaze fell onto the worn clock to the right of him. There was still a fourth of the clock open until six o'clock. "I usually get here around six, but I figured since it was your first day back then..."

I squinted my eyes in confusion. "Then what?"

His eyes met mine casually. "I figured you wouldn't be working, and I figured that neither would Jack or Lou so they could, you know, be with you." He shrugged. "I just wanted to get a head start."

I looked down at the feed buckets that were practically finished and realized he'd had to have been there for a while. I most likely hadn't heard his pickup because I'd been in the shower.

"Well, I'm working." I picked up two feed buckets that were done and turned my back on him. "I'll start handing them out."

Before I was fully out the door Ty called my name and I turned towards him with a questioning gaze.

"Did you cut your hair?" I glanced at the chin length piece of hair that was falling in front of my eye and then back up at him.

"I needed something different, you know?" He only stared at me and finally I turned and walked into the barn, handing out the feeds.

* * *

"Amy, your hair!" I bit my bottom lip as Lou's hand fluttered to my hair in complete surprise. Her eyes had an expression like dread in them as she ran her hands down the longest pieces, which reached only a few inches past shoulder length.

"Well," Grandpa came down the spiraling stairs in the corner and into the kitchen, freshly showered. "That's different."

"Why did you cut your hair?" Lou couldn't stop examining my head. "Especially by yourself! I could of brought you to the salon sometime this week, or even today. You've probably damaged it now."

I rolled my eyes and pushed my shoes off with my feet.

"Lou, its hair. It will grow back." I passed by her and she turned around as I did so, following me. "Plus, I kind of like it."

She groaned. "But you took so much off! Your hair was gorgeous!"

I looked around at her. "And it's ugly now, is that it?" She looked taken aback. "It's not like I gave myself a pixie cut, Lou, its just a trim." She looked at me. "Okay, a _dramatic _trim. But a trim nonetheless."

"Well, why did you _trim_ a foot of your hair off?" She actually seemed angry, like it was her hair or something. Her own hair was only an inch or so longer than my hair at the moment, so its not like she hadn't ever had short hair. Just because I'd always had really long hair meant nothing.

"It's something different." I turned towards the door at the sound of his voice. Ty was standing in the door taking off his boots. "Haven't you ever just wanted something different?"

Lou looked at Ty in surprise and then she sighed. "Yeah, I guess. I was just surprised, that's all."

"I'm sure." Ty smiled at Lou and then looked over at me. "It looks good though. I think it looks better this length. Bouncier, or something."

"Bouncier?" I crinkled my eyebrows in amusement.

"Hey, I'm a guy, what do you expect?" I smiled at him as he smiled at me.

_**

* * *

Flashback**_

_I smiled at him as he smiled at me. He took my hand in his and led me towards the car._

_**

* * *

Present**_

Ty was looking at me oddly and I realized that I'd been staring at him as I'd remembered that night that happened years ago. Obviously, Ty would be confused. He couldn't possibly known what I'd just been thinking about.

"Breakfast is ready." Ty's eyes swung away from mine and he sat down at the table. I followed and sat next to him. Just as I sat down, Scott walked into the kitchen.

"Amy!" Scott instantly turned towards me and I stood up to embrace him. He smelled like soap and I smiled at him.

"Hey brother-in-law." He laughed.

"Hey sister-in-law. How are you?" his eyes became softer and I sighed, knowing he was thinking of my mother. Of course he was.

"I'm getting by." He nodded and let his eyes rest on Lou...and their baby. Lou got up to give him a welcoming kiss and hug and then they both sat down to their plates.

"So, did you cut your hair recently?" Scott asked Amy, and everyone just looked down at their plates in amusement as Scott looked around confused.

* * *

"Lately you make me weaker in the knees. And race through my veins, baby, every time you're close to me. Take me away to places I ain't seen. They say you've got a hold on me, and I won't disagree..."I sung to myself as I mucked out the back barn. I'd been at it all day and I'd thought of going in for a nap several times but there hadn't been a chance. Even with Ty and I doing separate things all day, barely anything had been accomplished. Only three days and the farm had gone into a state of disarray.

And tomorrow...tomorrow was the funeral. We wouldn't be home for most of the day, so therefore that meant more work today and more work tomorrow night. I could practically feel the fatigue I would be experiencing for the next few days.

I was dreading it.

"Hey," I turned and smiled at Grandpa as he held out his hand with a cup in it. "I thought you'd like something to drink." It was quite hot out, I noticed.

"Thanks," I smiled and took a sip from the ice cold iced tea he'd brought me.

"You know," he squinted past me and towards the door of the barn, through which was the house. "You didn't have to work today, or even this week. Nobody expected you to. I was going to help out more so that you could rest."

I looked in the general direction of the house like him and then I handed him the cup.

"I know, but I had to work. I just...I can't sit around idle. It's not me." Grandpa nodded without looking at me, and then he turned to leave, before stopping.

"She really missed you sweetie." I felt tears well in my eyes. "But she never held you staying in England against you. She wanted you to be happy. She loved you." He took a deep rattling breath and began walking away. "But dammit if she didn't miss you."

I never felt so alone in my life

* * *

_**Ahhh! Yay! Finally the second chapter. I'm sure you guys have a few questions (cough**_theflashback_**cough) and I'll be happy to answer them to a certain extent. So, if you care to, review and ask away :D**_

_**Oh, and happy superbowl :D I've actually been running between my computer and the game so that I could finish this and still keep an eye on it. Giants are losing right now :(, but I have faith!**_


	3. The worst is over

_**It's been forever since I've updated. And in this case, forever is an understatement.**_

_**Once again, I won't go into details as to why I haven't been very faithful to my stories...lets just say life hasn't been easy lately.**_

_**But it's summer, and I'm making myself enjoy it and relax.**_

_**Although, I will warn you all, I am going on multiple different vacations and trips this summer (connecticut, rhode island, georgia, tennessee, camping...etc.) so there will be times when updates are impossible. The longest, I believe, being two weeks.**_

_**However, I truly want to finish this story. And I am sticking with this story and only updating this one.**_

_**Starting so many stories at once, I believe, was my downfall in the first place. I mean, look at Hard Times...I got pretty far with that story when it was the only one I had.**_

_**So, here is an update. Please enjoy, and please review.**_

_**For such a sporadic updater, reviews truly do help with motivation.**_

_**Thank you.**_

_**Note:** Yes, when I say Ben I mean the Heartland Ben. However, he isn't the same guy. Instead of his Aunt living far away from Heartland, she also lives in Jefferson with her farm. So he never worked at Heartland. Basically, throw everything you know about Ben out of the window. I just used his name because he's familiar to all of my readers. And I didn't want to confuse the plot more._

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Everything that was in the Heartland books is not mine. However, everything that is unique, is. Please do not steal._

* * *

**Best of Me**

**Chapter Three-**

"**the worst is over, you can have the best of me"**

_July 4, 2007_

Independence Day. The day that we, as a nation, adopted the Declaration of Independence and stood free from the rule of Great Britain. The day that so many people, of all different backgrounds, craved for. The day that many prayed for. The day that we, as a country, celebrate each and every year with fervor and excitement.

We light our sparklers, sip our beverages of choice, place ourselves within view of the

coming attractions, and have a grand time.

All our lives we have celebrated, never once thinking that our day of freedom, our day of choice, could ever be marred.

I myself, have always loved this day. I loved the excitement of packing bags full of essentials; swimsuits, towels, sand pails, sun block, sparklers, extra clothes, food, etc.

I always loved the car ride to the nearest beach where the fireworks would, late at night when darkness had fallen, light up the sky.

As a child I would stand up as the first firework went off, my neck stretched back as far as it could go, and just smile at them.

Lou would always cover her ears to watch the show; she always claimed the noise took away from it.

I begged to differ. Without noise, there wasn't a show.

Just like storms. Without thunder, there wasn't lightening.

You cannot have one without the other.

And together, they made light. They made beauty.

All my life I had loved this day, I had waited for this day. I honestly believe I felt more excitement for those fireworks than for the arrival of Santa Clause.

Now, however, all I felt was dread.

* * *

"Black," I muttered, my fingers lightly skimming across the clothes hung within my closet. As my eyes scanned, I knew that before me was enough black to cover the bright blue sky and dampen the day with darkness. However, I doubted that black jeans and a black t-shirt were the sort of apparel one wears to a funeral.

I took a deep breath. _What is wrong with you, Amy? _I demanded of myself. _Who sits and contemplates the right apparel to wear to their mothers funeral? Why do you care about the clothes you're going to be wearing while your mother is lowered in the ground? Have you no heart?_

"No," I choked out, my eyes already brimming with tears. "I don't."

"You don't what?" Lou's soft voice penetrated my thoughts and I turned to look at her, blinking rapidly, causing my tears to flee.

"Oh," I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath. "I, uh, don't have anything to wear."

Lou's eyes shifted slowly from me to my closet, and then back to me. Her eyes held her well contained sadness. She had been so strong the past few days, not letting her hurt bring about mine. She could tell that I didn't want to talk, that I was trying to ignore it all. But at this moment, she knew I was hurting. She knew I was grasping for something to hold onto, something that was real.

She smiled sadly, "Here, come with me."

I followed her out of my room, down the hallway, and into her old room where she had been staying since I had come home. She waddled over towards her closet and slowly opened it. Inside lay dresses and several other articles of clothing from her teenage years spent within this room.

"I haven't looked in here in ages," she muttered, sifting through the dresses that littered the space within. "I can't believe my prom dress is still here."

Prom. That was the first time it had been mentioned since I'd been home. I mean, I suppose that wasn't a surprise what with the reason I was home and all...but up until now every visit for the past year contained at least one conversation of Senior Prom and whether or not I knew who I was going to go with when it came about.

I never did.

"Oh, here it is." Lou reached up and unhooked the hanger that held a long black dress on it. The dress was a halter, its flimsy material loosely tied behind the hook of the hanger. The dress came down to a slight v-neck that was actually modest, and then it simply fell in long waves.

"Lou, don't you think that's a little too elegant for a...fu..." I couldn't bring myself to say the word.

Lou's eyes filled slightly, but she cleared her throat and held the dress towards me.

"I know it looks elegant, but it's actually not. Just try it on, Amy. You'll see." She shuffled towards the door. "Plus, I'm sure I have a shawl somewhere to go over it, just incase."

She shut the door as she passed through it, and I turned to look at the dress sprawled across the bed. I sighed, knowing I wouldn't want to wear it, but began to slip my clothes off anyway.

When I had the dress fully surrounding my body, and I had successfully tied the halter, I turned towards the mirror on the back of Lou's door.

I had expected to look at myself and see a dress fit for a dance, or an elegant dinner, or even a night out on the town.

What I saw was me.

What I saw was a girl ready to go to her mother's funeral in a dress perfect for the occasion.

That is, if anything could be perfect for a funeral.

* * *

_2 hours later_: _3 o'clock_

"...At this time, Marion's daughters would each like to speak for a moment. Please, listen to their words." The priest gently held my hand and pulled me forward into the place he had just stood. I was happy for this tug, otherwise I do not think I would have been able to do it.

"Five days ago I shared harsh words over the phone with my mother. Five days ago, my mother was hurt by those words. Five days ago, five hours after those words were sent across an ocean, my mother died." Shocked eyes were easily found throughout the crowd. It was safe to assume no one had known this. "I can honestly stand here and say that I have never regretted anything in my life as much as I regret that phone call. See, the reason for that phone call was that I wanted to stay in England for the summer rather than come home. It would be my third summer of not returning here, to Heartland. I, of course, had reasons for wanting to stay in England, but I now see that they were foolish and that I should of never made that call. I should of never hurt my mother, or hung up on her in the heat of the moment." I quickly wiped away the tears that were furiously running down my face. I blinked, cleared my throat, and carried on. "However, my regret goes far past that night; that phone call. My regrets go back seven years. Recently someone told me something," I glanced at Grandpa, his streaming eyes caught mine. "Someone told me that for the seven years I was practically nonexistent here in Jefferson and at Heartland...my mother missed me." I took a deep breath. "I mean, I always knew she missed me, but hearing it from someone else's mouth just made that truth a hundred times more real for me."

"Amy," I looked down at Lou's gentle hold on my wrist, her questioning eyes.

"I'm okay, Lou. I have to say this." She stared at me for a moment before backing away.

"My mother loved me. My mother missed me. I always thought that she was so uncool for missing me like she did. I thought she was clingy because she called me every night, and I always had that thought:_ Why does she miss me so much? I'm only an ocean away_. Well, I now see why she missed me so much. I may not have been dead, but she couldn't see me. She couldn't touch me, or teach me, or help me. All she had were those phone calls and holiday visits. And...I took those away, not understanding. But now I do. I understand why she missed me. I understand why she always called. Because, right now, I would give anything to be able to call her and ask her how her day was. Ask her if there was a high point of her day. Tell her I love her. Tell her I miss her." I was crying so hard at this point that I was surprised if anyone understood me. But I didn't care. This was for me. I needed this. "Tell her I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

I felt arms wrap around my waist, I felt myself beating the chest of the one who held me. I felt myself being slowly led away from the group surrounding my mothers resting place. I vaguely heard Lou begin to talk.

None of it mattered.

"I'm so sorry!" I screamed like a mantra, my voice becoming hoarse, the words being continuously carved into my throat as they were uttered again and again.

"Amy, it's okay. It's okay!" I finally looked up at the person whose arms were fully supporting me, the ones who's chest I had no doubt bruised with my flailing arms.

Ty.

I stopped struggling, I stopped screaming. I gazed into his eyes, then beyond them. I stared at everyone watching my sister speak of our mother. Every now and then someone would peak around their shoulder toward me, seeing if I was alright.

"Amy..." I brought my gaze back to Ty's, his emerald eyes full of sadness, evident by the moisture within them.

I slowly laced my hands around his, pulling them gently off me. I held both of his hands for a moment longer than necessary, then released them.

He let them fall without complaint, but his eyes still searched mine.

"Ty, I can't do this." I shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"I know. I know it's hard, but you'll get through this, Amy. We'll all get through this."

"Yeah?" I looked up at him.

"I promise."

* * *

_**Flashback**_

"_I promise." His voice was as smooth as his hands were across my abdomen. He slowly dipped beneath the hem of my shirt and caressed the silky skin beneath._

_I laid my head back against the seat, the feelings within my stomach overtaking my body._

_Could this be right? Could this feeling be right?_

* * *

_**Present**_

"Promises get broken, Ty." My now dry, numb eyes found his once again.

"Amy, it's going to hurt. It already does, but we can all get through this." He looked deep into my gray eyes, searching. "That's a promise that will be kept."

"I find it funny," I muttered. "That you believe that you can keep a promise."

"Amy..." the sadness in his eyes doubled at my words.

"No, Ty." I backed up a few steps, looked him in the eyes once more, then turned and walked away to watch my mother be lowered into her final resting place.

* * *

_11 o'clock_

"Amy!" I turned towards the sound of my name and smiled as one of my only friends in Jefferson bounced towards me.

"Hey, Soraya." Soraya didn't stop bouncing until she had wrapped her arms around me in a rib shattering hug. I smiled and hugged her back. It had been a while since I'd seen her.

I had met Soraya the first year my family moved to Jefferson. I, of course, attended boarding school in England right away, but we had moved during the beginning of the summer.

My mom and I had been shopping for food when a girl with long, dark ringlets had come up to me and asked my name.

At the age of ten, this was a little odd to me. I smiled, though, and told her.

We hung out that whole entire summer, never leaving each others side.

Honestly, she was the only reason my summers and holidays spent in Virginia were bearable for the following years. Whenever I was home, we were hanging out every moment that we could.

Soraya made life in a small town seem interesting with her bouncy air and need for fun.

She was one of my only real friends in Jefferson, but definitely not the only peer of mine that I knew around here.

She had made it her vendetta in life to give me a social life during the summers.

Each year she would drag me to parties and introduce me to everyone at them.

I had come to be known as "The Foreign Girl", even though everyone knew I was actually American.

Soraya was part of the reason I was at this party, also.

She pulled away from our hug after a minute and looked me in the eyes, her nearly violet orbs full of sympathy, "How are you?"

I shifted my feet before smiling at her. "I'm dealing."

She nodded, grasping my hand for a second and squeezing it.

"You know I only invited you so you knew you weren't forgotten...I didn't expect you to come. No one did." Soraya had been at my mother funeral that morning and then at the small gathering at the farm after. When she had been about to leave she'd told me that she was going to a bonfire on a nearby beach that night for the fireworks, and if I needed her she'd be there, or to call her cell phone.

I had, instead, joined the party.

I'd needed to get away. Although, that wasn't easy. When I'd informed Lou, Scott, and Grandpa that I was going out for a while and needed the keys to the truck, their eyes had widened in shock.

I hadn't given an explanation though. Just that I needed to get away for a while. I needed to clear my head.

And that's exactly what I was doing. I'd stepped into the party, and made my way straight to the keg.

Now, I know that drinking away your sorrows is never the way to go...believe me, I know.

In England they party just as hard, if not harder, than here in the States.

I had never been a drinker, though. Maybe a drink here, a drink there.

But tonight, I just needed to be numb. Number than I could make myself without alcohol.

So I drank.

And when Soraya found me...I was far past tipsy.

"Oh, I know Raya. But, you know, I just need to loosen up. I need to stop crying and hurting." I smiled brightly and did a twirl, my vodka and sprite sloshing around the cup above me. "I need to dance, and have fun, and just...forget."

Her eyes, clearly sober in their calculating way, gazed at my half-way full cup.

"Amy, maybe you should stop drinking."

"Stop? Oh, Raya, don't be so dull. You have to understand—yah gotta."

"I understand, Amy, I do. But this isn't the way to forget, okay?" She tried to gently pry the cup from my hands, but I pulled quickly away.

"_Don't_ tell me how to forget, Soraya." I could feel tears prickling my angry eyes. Dammit. "For the past five fucking days I've tried everything to forget. But I can't sleep, I can't smile all the time, and I can't just walk around like nothing happened."

I wiped a stray tear away with anger and walked away from her.

I sipped my drink as I staggered away from the roaring party. The music became softer as I traveled down the long beach, which was now deserted of the people who had been there not two hours earlier for the fireworks show.

As I walked down the beach I took off my sandals, hung them from the fingers of my left hand, and let my feet walk through the shallow water, waves pushing it up to around my knees. At one point I even contemplated going in farther, but I didn't want to get my shorts or my tank-top wet.

Not to mention that while the waves felt good along my legs, I was steadily getting chilly as the ocean breeze brought in a cool front.

It was beautiful though, even in my distorted state of mind. The ocean reached out to the sky, and the sky held on to the oceans softly curving waves.

I walked away from the water about ten feet and fell to the sand, laying back to look at the sky.

And at the moment, I contemplated heaven.

Was there a heaven? Was there a place of eternity where all was well and God could touch you with his ever knowing hand. Could he watch over you in life as well as death?

Did heaven exist?

"Amy?" I startled, sitting up as quickly as I could under the influence. Which was actually quite a feat.

"Um...yes?" I slurred, confused as to who it was.

"What are you doing out here?" My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the voice.

"Ben," I sighed, standing up and taking a swig of my drink. His dark shadow came closer until he was right in front of me, his breath warming me.

"Amy, are you okay?" I rolled my eyes. Did everyone have to ask that?

"I'm fine, Ben. You can leave now." I walked past him, heading back in the direction of the party.

"Amy, don't walk away from me." His voice called, calm and collected.

"What are you going to do, Ben? Make me?" I could practically feel him flinch.

"Look, I think we need to talk." I slowed my pace almost to a stop. I hadn't expected those words to come from his mouth.

"No, we don't." I turned my head slightly to gaze at him through the darkness. He walked forward a few steps so he was only a few feet from me.

"Yes, we do, Amy." He stepped forward again. "We never really got to talk."

"That's because we never had anything to talk about, Ben. We were friends, and then we weren't. Case closed."

"Amy, you know it's not that simple."

I turned to fully face him.

"No, Ben, it is." I shook my head. "Things happen, I know that and you know that. Let's not make it bigger than it was."

"You're making it less that it was!" His face, were it light out, would prove to be turning red in frustration.

"I don't need this right now, okay?" I backed away. "I don't need to remember thing's I've tried so hard to forget." I blinked. "Everything since I've been home has reminded me about one bad thing after another."

I slipped my sandals back onto my feet.

"It's no wonder I never came back here." I stared him straight in the eye. "Nothing was worth coming back for."

* * *

**_Woah, baby. Ten page chapter. Is it bad that I'm insanely proud of myself?_**

**_Soooo, please review. I'm sure that this story is already confusing some of you._**

**_I know it would be confusing me if I didn't know what was going on._**

**_Oh, and the drinking in this chapter...yeah, not cool. I know what it's like to drink and want to forget...and I definitely learned from that experience. So while I used alcohol as an escape in this chapter, please don't think I agree with it. I don't._**

**_Thank you for reading, guys. It means a lot :D_**

_–Shawna_


End file.
